


The Inquisitor's Touch

by NacinnaStar



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/M, Healing, Massage, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NacinnaStar/pseuds/NacinnaStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She pressed her palms more firmly into him and slowly began sliding them down to his lower back. Her magic was a warm caress, spreading through his body insistently. It had been years since anyone had touched him like this, let alone a woman as lovely as the Inquisitor. Heat was beginning to pool in his belly and he fought against his arousal. Don’t fool yourself, you dirty old man. She’s only here to heal you."</p><p>In which Blackwall is badly injured and things get a little sexy when the Inquisitor offers her healing skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blackwall groaned softly as he lifted the mug of ale to his lips. Today has been a long and brutal day that started out bad and ended up just plain shit. He’d managed to leave their fight with a group of giants fairly unscathed, but then they had to run into a dragon.

_Fucking dragons. If I never see a dragon again, I’ll die a happy man._

The beast had knocked him back into a jagged boulder in her death throes, badly injuring his back. He’d shaken the blow off stoically, but by the time he made it back to Skyhold his body was an aching mess.

Feeling fuzzy from the drink, but not nearly numb enough, he heard a voice call his name in greeting. Blackwall turned his head toward the source, wincing slightly as he felt a stab of pain shoot through his neck. The Inquisitor gave a small wave of greeting and came towards him.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Blackwall. I’d thought for sure you’d be laid up in bed after the beating that dragon gave you,” she said with a slight smirk.

“It’ll take more than a dragon to keep my off my feet, my lady,” he said, trying to keep his tone light despite the insistent throb of pain.

“It seems so. I’m more than a little impressed.” She chuckled softly and slid in next to him to lean against the bar.

As she turned to order a drink, Blackwall’s eyes roamed across the Inquisitor. Her usually tightly bound dark hair fell in loose curls down her back and she had a lovely pink tinge to her cheeks that indicated this wasn’t her first drink of the night. It figured that she’d somehow managed to look even more radiant after a day of brutal fighting and near death experiences. Whether covered in gore or dressed up in formal wear, the Inquisitor was always breathtaking.

The Inquisitor turned back to him and he quickly averted his gaze.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your drink. Thanks again for your help today!” she said, patting him on the back. Blackwall lurched forward and cursed at the contact. 

“Oh Maker, I’m so sorry! Are you alright? I didn’t think I hit you that hard…”.

“You didn’t, I’m just as little sore.” Blackwall tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out more like a grimace.

“Blackwall, you should really let me look at your injury. I can at least use some healing magic to numb the pain a bit,” she said, her face full of concern.

“Really, my lady, I’m fine. Nothing a stiff drink and a good night’s rest won’t fix.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously unconvinced. “I’m more than happy to help. Please let me.”

“Listen to the boss, Warden. She’s got magic hands!” shouted Bull from across the room, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

_Those delicate hands sliding over his body, touching him all over._ The thought alone was intoxicating. Blackwall shook the image out of his head. “I have no doubt that the Inquisitor is an excellent healer. However, I really just need rest,” he said dismissively. He forced himself out of the chair as smoothly as possible and took a step towards the door. Traitorous pain lurched through his back, and he stumbled. 

Lightning fast, the Inquisitor’s arm darted out to steady him. “Oh, very convincing. I’ll help you back to your quarters, but then you’re going to be quiet and let me examine you.”

Blackwall opened his mouth to protest.

“No arguing!” She glared at him for a moment. They stood staring at each other for a moment, then he acquiesced, allowing the Inquisitor to drape his arm over her shoulder and support some of his weight. _What a pathetic fool I must look like, needing someone to help me hobble back to my quarters._ He winced in embarrassment and pain, gaze downcast so he wouldn’t have to see the smirk that was undoubtedly on Bull’s face as they passed. Slowly, she guided him out the tavern door and into the chilly night air.

***

By the time they finally made it back to the barn and managed to maneuver their way up the stairs to his makeshift quarters, Blackwall was ready to collapse. The Inquisitor led him over to his pallet and helped him to sit. She took a minute to catch her breath from the exertion of supporting the weight of a man almost twice her size, her eyes surveying the space.

“You know, you really don’t have to live up here. There are plenty of other quarters available that would undoubtedly be much more comfortable,” she said.

“Don’t worry about me, my lady. I don’t mind things a bit more rustic.”

“Clearly,” she said, shaking her head.

_See, a woman like her needs refinement and luxury. Not some broken down man stinking of horse shit like you._

“At least let me request a nicer bed for you. I’m sure that sleeping on a straw pallet will only make things worse.”

“As my lady commands.”

“Blackwall, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘my lady.’ Especially when it’s just the two of us.”

“As you wish, my lad—Inquisitor Trevelyan.”

“Hah! That sounds even more formal,” she said with a slight frown, her arms folding across her chest. “Just call me Rose.”

“Alright, Rose,” said Blackwall, his voice huskier than he intended as he spoke her name. He could have sworn he saw her blush slightly, but then it was gone.

“Better. Now let’s see about that back of yours,” said Rose, sinking down to sit behind him. “Just hold still for a moment. I promise I’ll be gentle.” He heard her take a deep breath and then felt her hands rest lightly on his upper back. Those strong, beautiful hands touching _him._ He tensed slightly, but she kept her hands in place and he willed himself to relax.

A few moments passed and then he felt the tingle of magic slowly seep into him. A shiver ran down his spine at the sensation. “Is that alright?” she said softly, the warm breath from her words caressing the back of his neck. Words failing him, he settled for nodding his head and grunting his approval. 

She pressed her palms more firmly into him and slowly began sliding them down to his lower back. Her magic was a warm caress, spreading through his body insistently. It had been years since anyone had touched him like this, let alone a woman as lovely as the Inquisitor. Heat was beginning to pool in his belly and he fought against his arousal. _Don’t fool yourself, you dirty old man. She’s only here to heal you._

She continued to rub up and down his back at an agonizingly slow pace, the pressure getting firmer with each pass. Soft breaths caressed his neck and he caught the faint scent of jasmine and lyrium. She shifted closer and as she slid her hands down again he felt the swell of her breasts brush against him. An involuntary groan slipped from his lips and she pulled back at the sound. 

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” she said with concern.

Blackwall shook his head. “No, no I’m fine” he said, his voice hoarse.

She frowned slightly. “Are you sure? I can’t seem to get the right angle like this, and working through the padding of your shirt is making things more difficult. Maybe you could take your shirt off and lie down?”

His felt himself harden at the idea and silently chastised himself. “Really my lady—Rose. I’m already feeling much better, there’s no need to trouble yourself further.”

“It’s no trouble. Here, let me just help you…” she said, reaching to undo the clasp at the neck of his shirt. His cock twitched traitorously and he hissed. His hand darted out to stop her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away. Her eyes met his in confusion.

“I apologize, my lady. The hour is late and I desperately need some rest. Thank you for all that you have done.”

“Oh, of course. Goodnight then,” she said, a tinge of embarrassment in her voice. If his mind wasn’t clouded with lust, Blackwall would have sworn she looked almost disappointed. But surely that was just his imagination. The Inquisitor rose quickly and he heard the stairs creak as she left.

As soon as she was gone, Blackwall collapsed back on to the bed. He was achingly hard and wanted desperately to touch himself. But as he reached for his cock, his neck twinged in protest. With a frustrated sigh, he closed his eyes and attempted to will away the thoughts of her hands roaming across his body.


	2. Chapter 2

Blackwall spent the next few days going about his regular routine as best he could. The pain in his back had lessened significantly, but his body still cried out in protest when he tried more vigorous activity. Unable to train, he spent most of the day woodworking in the stables, isolated from most of Skyhold. He hadn’t seen the Inquisitor since that embarrassing evening. Which was fine by him, considering how awkward the whole ordeal had been.  His thoughts kept drifting to that evening, replaying his arousal and shame. Some desperate part of his mind wanted to believe that the Inquisitor—no, that _Rose_ could desire him as well. It was absurd to even consider it, but her touch had been so intense, so intimate.

When a messenger delivered the message that the Inquisitor requested his presence in her quarters that evening, Blackwall’s thoughts morphed to ones of confusion and panic. The hours went by at an excruciatingly slow pace. All he could do was wonder about why she wanted to see him in private. _Is she upset with me? Did she notice my arousal? Maker, is she going to tell me to leave the Inquisition?_   Increasingly drastic thoughts swirled through his mind by the time evening fell and he ascended the stairs to her quarters. The top of the staircase opened out into a large, well appointed room. Steadying himself for the confrontation that was surely to come, Blackwall sucked in a deep breath and he took a moment to look around. No wonder the Inquisitor had considered his quarters so terrible. Her room was warm and inviting, a sweet scent wafting through the air.

The Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen. “My lady?” called Blackwall. He heard rustling coming from behind a door across the room.

“Just a minute!”

_Does she sound angry? What is she doing in there?_ A lump rose in his throat. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and Rose stepped out.

His mouth fell open at the sight of her. Raven hair was piled messily atop her head, a few rogue curls falling down her neck. She’d traded her usual uniform leathers for a dark green tunic that fell just past her knees, her legs otherwise bare.

Rose smiled at him in greeting, a slight tinge of color flooding her cheeks. “Good, you’re here. Sorry about my appearance. I just know that Josephine would kill me if I got water or oil on my good clothes, and this is all I have that’s clean.”

_Oil or water?_ He looked at her blankly. 

“Did the messenger not tell you why I asked you here?” she said, sensing his confusion.

“No, she just said to meet you in your quarters at 7. Is there something wrong, my lady? If I have done something to cause offense, I—“

“Cause offense? What are you talking about? I wanted you to meet me so that I could finish healing you,” said Rose.

Blackwall released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She wasn’t mad. “I assure you my lady, I’m much improved,” said Blackwall. 

“Blackwall, please. I’m leaving in a few days to meet with Hawke’s Warden friend, and I know how important finding the Wardens is to you. But I can’t take you with me unless you’re at your best."

He couldn’t argue with that logic. “Alright, I’ll admit I’m still a bit sore,” he said, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“I have just the thing to help,” she said. Smiling, she gestured toward the room she had come from. He followed her through the door into what turned out to be her bath chamber. In the center was a tub filled to the brim, tendrils of steam rising off the water.

“My lady, is this some sort of comment on my hygiene? Because despite what Dorian says, I do actually know what a bar of soap is,” said Blackwall.

The Inquisitor let out a peal of laughter. _Andraste, that laugh_. _So open and carefree, even after all that she’s been through._ “Not at all. Truth be told, I prefer a bit of roughness,” said Rose.

“Oh _really_?” said Blackwall, raising an eyebrow. 

A lovely blush colored her cheeks again and she looked down at her hands. “I mean to say, that is we all can’t be quite so concerned with personal grooming as Dorian.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway, the bath is to help relax your muscles so that the massage will be more effective. It has a blend of medicinal herbs that I use whenever I’m injured.”

_Massage?_ That meant she’d be touching him again. His pulse quickened momentarily at the thought.

“Just get in whenever you’re ready,” she said and gestured toward the tub. “I need to go check on some things in the library, so I’ll be back in about an hour. When you’re done, go ahead and lie face down on the bed under the cover I’ve set out.” Without waiting for a response, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

***

Blackwall waited a minute then removed his clothes unceremoniously. It felt strange being in her quarters, like he was intruding upon something very personal. Never mind the fact that he was naked. The bath did look nice and when he slid into the tub he let out a sigh. The water was the perfect temperature and he could already feel tension sliding away. He closed his eyes and let the sensation wash over him. A drowsy languor flooded his body. The sweet fragrance of the bath reminded him of how she smelled the other night, her body nestled close behind him. A groan slipped from his lips as he remembered her hands sliding over his back. He imagined her there with him in the tub, her naked body pressed against his, hands roaming over his shoulders, down his stomach and then slipping down further to grasp his—

The sound of footsteps shook him out of his revery. _Shit, how long have I been in here_? The water had cooled and he cursed as he pushed himself out of the bath. The steps grew louder. He dried himself off hurriedly. There was no time to get dressed. He cursed under his breath and ran into the bedroom. He lay down on the bed, covering himself with the thin sheet, just as he heard the door to the bedroom open.

“I’m back, I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. Things took a little longer than I anticipated,” Rose called as she entered. He heard the muffled sound of her steps as she walked across the carpet towards him. “Feeling more relaxed?” she said and he felt the bed dip slightly as she sat down next to him.

Blackwall attempted to answer, but as he began to speak he felt her hands rest lightly on his back and it came out as a grunt.

“Ha! I’ll take that as a yes,” she said. They sat in silence for a moment and she began to run her hands gently over his sheet-covered back. She continued like this for a minute, then removed her hands. Blackwall resisted the urge to whine at the loss. That feeling was soon replaced when he felt her slide the sheet down, uncovering his back. His whole body tensed.

“Relax,” she whispered. Hands tingling with healing magic rested against his bare skin. He tried to obey, but all he could think about was his mottled, weather-scarred skin. At least most of his worst injuries weren’t on his back. Surely she wouldn’t need to see the rest of him.

Skilled fingers worked into his aching muscles, drawing out any lingering tension or discomfort. He let the sensation push aside any misgivings about Rose seeing his body. Soon he found himself feeling very drowsy. 

Just as he was drifting off, she shifted and placed a knee on either side of his body, straddling him. He jolted awake, heat filling his body.  Highly aware of her firm thighs pressing into the sides of his body, he felt himself harden. _Maker’s balls, does she have any idea what she’s doing to me?_  

With increased pressure, she kneaded into his back and Blackwall let out a muffled groan. His cock dug into the mattress with each pass of her hands and he bit back a moan. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it any more, she stopped.

“Alright, I think I’ve done all I can for those muscles,” she said, sounding slightly out of breath.

A strange sense of loss ran through Blackwall as she gently lifted her hands from him and moved away. However, it was probably for the best. If she’d continued for much longer, his arousal would embarrassed himself beyond repair.

He was about to thank her for all she had done for him when she spoke. “Go ahead and roll onto your back and I’ll do the front.”

_Oh Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about ending abruptly! I wanted to post something, but haven't had much time to work on it :/


	3. Chapter 3

Panic flooded his mind at the Inquisitor’s words.  Working on his back was one thing. It was less personal. Easier to forget that it was the Inquisitor looking at him, touching him. If he turned over, she’d see him exposed for what he truly was: a broken man. His chest was a mess of deep scars, burns, and coarse dark hair. Nothing a beautiful woman like her would want to see, let alone desire.

When he didn’t move, Rose pressed gently but insistently on his side. “Is the mighty Warden Blackwall shy?” she said teasingly. “I promise I won’t spread word of your rugged manly physique. The last thing you need right now is to fight off more admirers. ”

Blackwall let out a dismissive laugh. “Fine, I suppose if you promise to preserve my modesty, I’ll do as you ask.” he said, attempting to keep his tone light and nerves under control. 

He rolled onto his back, trying to arrange himself so that his arousal wouldn’t be noticeable. Thank blessed Andraste, he had softened somewhat with the anxiety. 

Looking up, his eyes met hers momentarily. Blue-green eyes flecked with gold, filled with kindness and something else he couldn’t place. _Pity? Distaste?_ He averted his eyes quickly as she laid her palms lightly on his bare chest. He could still feel her gaze burning into him.  She traced her fingertips along a jagged scar that ran from his neck to navel. Looking back at her, he saw Rose examining the scar with a frown.

After a moment, she turned and grabbed a vial from her nightstand. From it, she poured fragrant oil into her palms and warmed it between her hands. He hissed slightly as she spread the liquid across his body. Her hands ran down the hard planes of his chest and stomach, fingers threading through the coarse hair. Blackwall tried to will himself to relax, but the more she touched him the more maddeningly arousing the sensation became. He was becoming harder by the second and soon there’d be no way to hide it.

He wriggled slightly, trying to rearrange himself. The Inquisitor’s hand slipped as he moved, dragging down past his hip and pulling the cover with it. Exposed, his cock sprung up traitorously.

_Shit!_ His heart stopped and his eyes popped opened.

Blackwall lay paralyzed for a moment. The Inquisitor was staring at at his hardened member, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Her hands had pulled back as if he had burned her.

“Blackwall, I…” she said, her voice trailing off. Neither of them spoke, holding still as if frozen.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence. Rose jumped up and moved to open the door as Blackwall grabbed the cover and retreated to the bathroom to find his clothes. As he scrambled to dress himself, he heard the murmur of voices.

After a minute, he heard a soft tap on the bathroom door. “Blackwall? I need to check on something but—“

“Forgive me Rose—my lady, I am so sorry!” he blurted out, interrupting her. There was an excruciating moment of silence.

“I’ll be back in five minutes, we can talk then,” she said. She sounded upset.

Blackwall heart hammered in his chest as he waited for Rose leave. When he was sure she was gone, he raced from her chambers and back towards the stables. He couldn’t bear to stay there in shame, awaiting her anger and disapproval. Maker willing, she wouldn’t come after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another super short part for now :/ I'll stop torturing poor Blackwall soon, I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

Halfway to the stables, Blackwall veered off into the tavern. If the Inquisitor came looking for him, she’d no doubt go to his quarters. Maybe if he could avoid her for long enough, she’d give up looking or forget what happened. _Or get even angrier_. Blackwall shuddered at the thought. 

The tavern was crowded and the combination of drunken conversation and music assaulted his frayed nerves. He pushed his way to the bar and ordered a drink. Liquid sloshed over the side of the mug as he brought it to his lips with shaking hands. He downed the ale quickly and ordered another. The drink had done nothing to lessen the pit of anxiety in his stomach.  From across the room came an unmistakable cackle that could only belong to Sera. He heard her shout “broody beard!” over the din. _Maker, that’s the last thing I need right now._

Grabbing his drink, he headed for the stairs. Sera gave him a lopsided grin, but let him pass without comment. He climbed to the top floor of the tavern. He made sure Cole wasn’t lurking anywhere up there, then sunk into a chair in a dark corner.  It was quieter up here. Less noise to distract him from replaying the evening over and over again in his mind. An endless cycle of frustration and shame. He stared into his mug despondently. _You fucking coward, hiding up here like it’ll solve your problems._ Blackwall ran his hands over his face and sighed.

He knew what he had to do, what an honorable man would do: face the problem head on and accept the consequences of his actions. _But I’m not an honorable man, am I?_ He shook his head bitterly and took one last swig of ale. Steeling himself, he exited out onto the battlements. The sky was dark and the tower that housed the Inquisitor’s quarters was dark. He’d have to wait until the morning to face the her judgement.

***

Blackwall made his way back to the stables and ascended the stairs to his makeshift quarters. When he reached to top, his heart stopped. Faint moonlight shone in through the barn’s slatted walls, illuminating a figure sitting on his newly-acquired bed. The Inquisitor.

She turned her head toward him and stood. Her eyes narrowed and she walked slowly towards him.  Silence hung heavy in the air. Blackwall held perfectly still, trapped by her formidable gaze.

_Say something, you idiot!_

_“_ M-my lady, there is no excuse for my behavior earlier,” he said, stumbling on the words.

The Inquisitor folded her arms across her chest.

“Shit, I am so sorry. It was just a physical reaction, it meant nothing. I took your kindness and twisted it into something wrong and dirty. I know you’d never be interested in a disgusting, dishonorable man like me,” said Blackwall. Jumbled, frantic apologies continued to spill from his mouth.

The Inquisitor’s gaze bore into him as he spoke. She frowned and stepped closer. “Blackwall” she said sharply, finally breaking her silence.

“I expected better from a man like you,” she said. Her eyes darkened and he looked away in shame. Her hand darted out and grabbed his chin, turning his face back towards hers.

_Maker, she’s going to kill me._ The Inquisitor was almost a half foot shorter than him, but in that moment he didn’t doubt that she could destroy him if she wanted to.

She let go of his face and looked Blackwall up and down, as if considering his fate. A few excruciating moments passed. Surprisingly, her mouth curved into a half-smile.  She took a step towards him and spoke. “A man like you should know better than to leave a girl when she’s all hot and bothered,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

_What did she say?!_

“My lady?” said Blackwall.

“You heard me,” said Rose, leaning in closer. Her mouth was a hairsbreadth from his ear as she continued speaking, voice raspy. “Maker Blackwall, just the sight of you was enough to make me unbearably wet.”

Blackwall let out a moan. She laughed softly and let her lips brush against his ear before pulling away.

“Well? Are you still interested?” she said softly.

He blinked at her in disbelief. “Fuck, do you even need to ask? My lady, are you sure—“

“Rose,” she interrupted.

“What?” he said, confused.

“Call me Rose. ‘My lady’ will be too formal when I have your cock in my mouth.”

_Oh fuck._ Blackwall let out a choked noise at the idea. Rose grinned wickedly and stepped behind him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and ran her hand up the front of his shirt, stopping when she got to the clasp at the throat.

"Shall we pick up from where I left off?" she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

_Surely this must be a dream._ The Inquisitor would never be attracted to him, let alone say such deliciously filthy things.  Her warm breath on his neck and deft fingers undoing his shirt buttons certainly felt real though.

Rose undid the last button and slid his shirt off, letting it fall to her ground. She stepped behind him and threaded her arms underneath his, snaking around him. Wrapped in her arms, the embrace was breathtakingly intimate. This beautiful, amazing woman was holding him. Wanting him. 

Soft breasts pressed against his back as she pulled him flush against her body. He hissed as her lips ghosted along his shoulder and up to his neck. He turned his head towards the sensation and she pressed a maddeningly chaste kiss on his jaw. He turned around to face her, their bodies pulling apart momentarily. She looked up at him almost shyly, then wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down, her soft lips meeting his. 

The kiss was brief, but electrifying.

“Rose,” Blackwall moaned as their lips parted. 

“Oh Maker, Blackwall. I want you,” she said breathily.

Their mouths crashed together again. Blackwall wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. She tasted like honey and spices. So achingly hot and sweet. He could have spent the rest of his life kissing her.

They both gasped as she rocked against his hardness. Rose smiled against his mouth and did it again. _Shit, if she keeps that up I’ll come before I even get my pants off._ As if sensing his thoughts, she pulled away. Blackwall felt a raw ache at the loss. 

That feeling was soon replaced with shock as she shoved his chest firmly, sending him stumbling backward onto the bed. She stood above him, looking down at him with a heated gaze. He drank in the sight of her standing there, her plush curves illuminated by the moonlight. She was still wearing far too much clothing. He wanted to rip the flimsy tunic from her body and explore every inch of her soft body. Blackwall reached to bring her down to the bed, desperate to feel her against him again.

Before he could grab her, she kneeled down beside him and starting yanking off his boots and socks without preamble. One of the boots crashed into an empty bottle and she cursed. “Sorry about that!” she said sheepishly.

“You think I care about a little broken glass when I have the world’s loveliest woman at my feet?”  said Blackwall with a laugh.

“Lovely, am I?” said Rose.

“Maker yes. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” said Blackwall, a tinge of self-doubt creeping back into his mind.

“What you’ve done to deserve me? You mean other than the fact that you are the most wonderful, selfless man I’ve ever met? Never mind the fact that you are so fucking sexy it makes me lie awake at night aching for you.”

Blackwall gaped at her in disbelief. “Sexy? Surely my lady jests.”

She glared at him for a moment, then rose up to sit next to him on the bed. She kissed him deeply,  threading a hand through his hair.  Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his head back roughly. Blackwall growled in protest. She ignored him and kissed her way down his exposed throat, scraping her teeth across his skin before releasing him.  

Rose looked him squarely in the eyes. “For such a formidable man, you sure can be an idiot. If I were joking, would I do this?” She pushed him onto his back and wrapped a leg over him, straddling his hips. Blackwall let out a grunt of surprise. He'd never been with a woman who was so aggressive; he was usually the one who took control. But _fuck,_  she was making him harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“Alright, point taken,” chuckled Blackwall. He slid his hands up the sides of Rose’s body and cupped her breasts. She moaned softly arching her back to meet his touch. _Maker, they barely fit in my hands._ He thumbed her nipples through the thin fabric of her tunic, eliciting a louder moan. She was still far too clothed for his liking. He ran his hands back down to the hem of her tunic, but she moved them off when he started to pull it up.

He frowned in confusion and frustration. Rose laughed softly and shook her head. “Later,” she said. Before he could protest, her mouth was on his, hot and insistent. Nimble fingers traced the deep channels of his scars and unexpected emotion boiled up from inside him.

“Rose, I wish I could be a better man for you. Someone more deserving. Someone younger and handsomer, who wasn’t a mess of scars and aching joints,” he said.

“Maker Blackwall, I don’t want that man. I want you,” she said. “Plus, scars are hot,” she added, punctuating her point with a sweep of her tongue across a particularly deep scar on his chest. “Now, lets see how far down they go.”


	6. Chapter 6

_She wants to see how far down they go, does she?_

“If the lady insists.” said Blackwall.

Rose looked at him with a wolfish grin. She slid down his legs to rest her weight on her heels, slowly dragging her body against his. She worked her way down his chest to his stomach, pressing searing kisses against each scar. He stared at her, mesmerized. Each caress silently reassured him that she desired him. It left him breathless and aching for more.

She finally made it to a deep scar just above his hip. She ran her lips against it and then trailed her mouth down lower. Blackwall let out a low whine as her cheek brushed against his cock. She turned her head and ran her mouth along his length through his pants.

“Oh Rose,” he moaned. She moved her hands to the laces of his pants, undoing them skillfully and hurriedly pulled them off. 

“No smalls?” she said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. She stared at him unashamedly and Blackwall felt color rising in his cheeks and his cock swelled under her gaze.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to pin her down and bury his face between her legs and taste her until she screamed his name. He tried to sit up, but Rose was one step ahead of him. She pushed him back down and wrapped a hand around his cock.  She gave him a firm stroke and Blackwall cried out. She let out a satisfied moan and began stroking him, her pace steady but maddeningly slow.

He willed himself not to whine in frustration, her teasing pace unbearable. She gave him a few more languid strokes, then lowered her head and swept her tongue along his length. He tensed at the sensation and stared at her heatedly as she circled her tongue around the tip, continuing to stroke him lazily. Her eyes glittered with predatory desire as she sunk her mouth down on him, taking his cock almost to the hilt. Blackwall choked and tried to restrain himself from bucking up into her mouth. _Maker, so much better than I ever could have imagined_.

Her eyes stayed locked on his as she pulled off slowly, then plunged down again, taking him even deeper. He wrapped a hand in her hair and she keened, her choked moan vibrating against his cock deliciously. She continued insistently. _Shit, I’m not going to last much longer_. He tried to get her to pull off, but she ignored him.

Moans and curses streamed from his mouth as the sensation built. “Rose..oh Maker..fuck you’re so good…wanted you for so long…wanted to feel those perfect cock sucking lips…”

Rose gasped and moaned around him as he spoke, speeding up. He thrust up into her mouth franticly.  “Oh fuck…oh Rose…don’t deserve you…oh Maker, I’m going to…” She took him all the way down and Blackwall hissed and cried out her name, waves of pleasure surging through him as he spurted hot jets of his seed down her throat. She held him in her mouth as he finished, then pulled off gently. A trickle of his seed had escaped her lips, and he groaned feebly as she licked it off and smiled.

Emotion surged inside him. _Maker, I love her._ “Rose, I—” Blackwall began.

She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his, silencing him. He tasted himself on her tongue as she kissed him deeply. She pulled away and stood up. He reached for her, but she dodged his grasp and gave him a strange weak smile, shaking her head. Body sluggish from his release, he couldn’t move fast enough to stop her as she turned and moved toward the stairs.

“Rose, wait! Please!” Blackwall called after her. There was no response. He cursed and lept up,  running down the stairs and out the door of the barn without a care for who saw him. But Rose was nowhere to be seen. The joy that has swelled up inside him shattered.  He returned to his cold bed, heartsick and confused.


	7. Chapter 7

A week went by before Blackwall saw her again. He’d woken up at dawn the morning after she’d come to him, racing to her quarters in search of an explanation. But she wasn’t there. Inquiring with Josephine, he learned that she’d left on urgent business. He couldn’t help but think that somehow he had driven her away. Maybe everything she’d said was just an act, a moment of kindness and pity for a pathetic, touch-starved fool. But the way she looked at him with such heat, the way she moaned as she took him into her mouth, it had all seemed so genuine, so real.

Days crawled by, followed by restless nights. He spent his evenings fruitlessly trying not to recall the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the obscene things she’s said as she kissed her way down his body, the blissful heat of her mouth on his cock. He always failed miserably, taking himself in hand desperately and crying out her name with a sob as he came. Shame and emptiness washed over him as he fell asleep each night, remembering the way she strange way looked at him before she left.

***

He was in the training yard, taking out some of his pent up frustration on some poor recruit when he heard a passerby mention that the Inquisitor had returned. Blackwall mumbled an excuse to his sparring partner, who looked relieved to stop, and hurried back to his quarters, mind racing.

Forcing himself to calm down, Blackwall washed the sweat from his body as best he could and combed his fingers through his hair, before dressing in a crisp linen tunic and soft leather breeches he rarely wore. If he was going to beg the Inquisitor for an explanation, at least he could attempt not to look like a bedraggled mess. Once he was dressed and marginally more presentable, he made his way to her quarters, forcing himself not to run.

He knocked on the door to her chambers, but there was no answer. Undeterred, he tested the door and found it unlocked. _I’ll just leave a note. I have to do something_. He moved quickly up the remaining stairs. He reached the top and stopped dead in his tracks. The Inquisitor _was_ there. She stood by the door to her bathing chamber, wearing only a thin, loosely wrapped robe. She was combing out damp hair and when she saw him her eyes widened in shock.

“Blackwall!” she gasped. The comb slipped from her hand and clattered as it hit the floor. She tugged at her robe, wrapping it around herself more tightly. “Shit, you scared me! What are you doing here?”

“Pardon me, my lady. I apologize for intruding, but I didn’t think you, didn’t realize you’d be—“ Frustration and desire flooded him as he looked at her standing before him. “Oh fuck it,” he mumbled. Then more loudly, “Rose, you know why I’m here.”

She blushed and looked down at the floor. “Oh,” she said softly.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t want to see me. But I can’t stand it any longer! We need to talk about the other night,” said Blackwall, He blurted out the words knowing that he’d lose the courage to speak if he waited any longer.

She looked back up at him, her face solemn. She crossed her arms, folding in on herself as if trying to shrink away from the whole situation, away from him. After a few excruciating moments of silence, she spoke. “Blackwall, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken things as far as I did. Please, let’s just forget it ever happened.”

_Forget it ever happened?!_ “You think I can just forget? All I can think about since that night is you! You said those things to me, touched me like that, kissed me, made me _feel_ like I never thought I could. And then you just left. Maker, I know I don’t deserve you, but why did you leave like that?” Blackwall said, voice filled with frustration and hurt.

She stared at him with wide eyes. His heart beat furiously in his chest, waiting for her reply.

“I—I thought it was best that I left before you felt…obligated to…I mean, we were done and I didn’t want to ruin things…” she mumbled.

Blackwall looked at her in confusion. “How could your staying have possibly ruined things?”

Rose frowned and rubbed her hand over her face. “I left because I didn’t want to you to touch me. No, wait, that sounds terrible! I mean, I wanted you to touch me, Maker I did. But I’ve never been able to…it would have just ended in frustration.”

_What in Andraste’s name is she trying to say?_

“Frustration?” said Blackwall.

“Maker breath, this is so humiliating. Fine. I’ve only been with a few men before and I’ve never been able to…I’ve never been able to come. At least not with someone else. It’s always ruined things. Sure, at first it was a fun challenge for them, but then they got resentful when they couldn’t get me off.  The other night was so wonderful and I just didn’t want you to waste your time on me…” Rose looked at her feet, face flushed in embarrassment.

_That’s why she left?!_ Tension and confusion melted from Blackwall and before he could stop himself, a relieved laugh escaped his lips.

She flinched at the sound and scowled at him. “Don’t laugh at me, you ass!”

Blackwall’s face sobered. “Apologies, my lady. I meant no offense.” He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder. She shuddered at his touch and turned away. “I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just…” He gently placed his other hand on her cheek and turned her face back toward him. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear.  “Rose, being with you could never be a waste of time.”

She looked up at him with watery eyes. “See, you say that now but—“

_Maker, I could kill the men who made her feel like this._ Blackwall leaned in and kissed her gently. She sighed and let him pull her against his chest. “Those boys were fucking idiots,” he growled.  She smiled weakly at him, blinking away her tears.  “Rose, I want you. Outcome be damned. We can stop whenever you want. Just please let me touch you, let me taste you, let me show you just how much time you’re worth.”

Rose let out a shuddering breath at his words, then gave him a small nod.


	8. Chapter 8

Seeing her consent, Blackwall gently touched Rose’s chin and lifted it up. She attempted to avert her gaze for a moment longer, her cheeks tear-stained and flushed.

“Rose” he said softly, and she finally met his gaze. They stood there looking into eachothers’ eyes for a few moments, both waiting for the other one to make a move. Feeling her breathing being to even out, Blackwall cupped her cheek in his hand. She sighed softly and leaned into his touch, her eyes closing. The intimacy of the moment, of her feelings laid bare, flooded him with emotion.  _ She wants you. She trusts you. Don’t ruin this. _

He pressed a trail of feather-light kisses from her temple, down across her eyelid, then just above her mouth. With each kiss, she melted further into his arms. Before he could reach his destination, she turned her face so that their lips met. Unlike her previous kisses, this one was tentative. Blackwall placed a soft kiss against her jaw, then a few more slowly moving down her neck. She inhaled sharply as his lips touched the juncture between her neck and shoulder. He kissed her again in that same spot, this time letting his teeth scrape ever so slightly against her skin. She hissed through her teeth and tightened her arms around him.  _ So she really does like a bit of roughness, eh?  _ He slid his hands down her back and roughly grabbed her bottom, and raked his teeth against that spot again. She moaned and rocked her hips against his leg. 

Rose turned her head to look into his eyes, the tears from just a minute before replaced with a look of pure desire. She rocked against him again, pressing his hardness into her soft belly.

“What would you do to me?” she said, a hint of hesitation in her voice. Blackwall looked at her in confusion before she continued. “You know...to show how much...how much time I’m worth?” Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of red and a wolfish grin appeared on his face.

_ Maker, I would do anything for her. _

_ “ _ Mmm, so many things to choose from, my lady,” he said, running his hands down her legs until he met the hem of her robe. “To start with, I’d set you on that banister over there.” He glanced over at the railing above the stairs to her quarters and curled his fingers underneath the silky fabric of her robe. “I’d push those creamy thighs of your apart until you were spread wide for me,” he said as he ran his hands up her legs, pulling the robe up. “Then, I’d kneel before you and worship you like the divine being you are.” With those words, Blackwall ghosted one of his hands across on of her legs and slid his hand between her thighs. 

_ Oh fuck.  _ Feeling how wet she was, Blackwall grew even harder.

“Oh fuck…” Rose gasped, echoing his thoughts. He rubbed her firmly and she cursed again. Building up a slow rhythm, he stroked her until she began to buck her hips up into his hand. His other hand grasped her ass, pushing her further onto his hand.

After what seemed like only a minute or two, he felt her tense and pull away from his touch. Everything inside him was screaming not to let her go, but he reluctantly pulled his hand away and let her take a step back from him.

Rose looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I told you I have a hard time with this,” she mumbled.

Blackwall’s heart sank with her words.  _ I’d barely even gotten started. _

“Good, I’m not the only one having a hard time,” he said with a cheesy wink, trying to cut the tension.

Rose groaned and rolled her eyes, but her furrowed brow relaxed and a smile spread across her lips.

“All jokes aside, may I ask one question?” said Blackwall, reaching out and placing her hand in his.

A moment passed before she answered and he rubbed his thumb reassuringly across her fingers.

“...Alright,” Rose said, her voice wavering slightly.

“When you touch yourself, how long does it take? What do you think about? How do you touch yourself?”

She blushed profusely and looked down. “I don’t know...why do you...that’s more that one question!” she stammered, trying to pull her hand from his.

_ Oh no you don’t.  _ Blackwall pulled her into him by her hand, wrapping the other arm around her waist. Looking her in the eyes, he asked again, his voice lower this time. “How do you touch yourself? How long until you come undone? What do you think about?” He punctuated the last question by placing her hand against the front of his pants. 

Her mouth opened slightly and she stared into his eyes. “I...It doesn’t take that long…I guess I kind of rub and then...fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t worry about explaining. Show me,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I sure did abandon this for a long time! I'm going to try to finish it, but it may take me some time. Hopefully not a year though :P


	9. Chapter 9

“What? You want me to...in front of you?” Rose flushed even more.

Blackwall smiled at her shocked reaction and reached up to the tie holding her robe closed and loosened it slowly, his eyes locked with hers. The silky fabric opened, and he pushed the fabric off of her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. He drank in the sight of her naked form--her full, rose-tipped breasts, the swell of her soft stomach, the curve of her hips, the valley of dark curls between her strong thighs.  _ Andraste preserve me, she is the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas. How did a wretch like me deserve to see such a sight? _

Rose fidgeted under his gaze. She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. Using the kiss as a distraction, Blackwall lifted her off her feet and brought her over to the bed. She gasped into his mouth in surprise. Laying her down onto the bed, he gave her one more languid kiss and then pulled away.

“Well, my lady? I’m waiting for your answer. Perhaps you could start by telling me what filthy thoughts run through your mind as you touch yourself? What are your fantasies?” A dark thought ran through his mind-- _ What if she thinks about others? Cullen or Iron Bull or maybe even Sera? _ He’d seen the way they looked at her. Before he could stop himself he continued, “Surely you’ve thought about all the suitors looking to have their way with the Inquisitor.”

Rose looked at him, her brow furrowed slightly. “You. It’s always you,” she said firmly.

Blackwall let out a relieved sigh. “Oh? And what do you imagine me doing to you?”

“All kinds of things,” she said softly, her legs spreading slightly.

He felt his cock twitch and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Go on,” he said in a rumbling voice. He watched as her hand slipped down between her parted legs and she began to stroke herself lightly.

“Sometimes you’re gentle. You sneak up into my bedchambers when everyone else is asleep and lay me out before you, kissing me all over and entering me slowly, our bodies rocking together until I come undone over and over again.”

Rose continued to touch herself, circling her nub as she spoke, legs spreading wider. Blackwall’s eyes darkened with lust and he began to rub his hand along the front of his breeches, his body aching for some sort of relief.

She let out a small moan seeing him do this, her pace quickening. “Other times, you grab me as I pass you in the hall and press me up against the wall, tearing open my tunic and pulling down my breeches. Ploughing me against the wall and then bending me over a table and fucking me hard. So hard…”

He couldn’t resist unlacing his breeches and taking himself in hand, not with her words and the sight of her touching herself more and more fervently.

“You have to cover my mouth...so my moans won’t alert anyone...and..oh Maker..you pull my hair and call me filthy names…as I come with you pounding inside me and rubbing my clit...fuck...Oh Blackwall!” Rose shuddered as she came, letting out a string of curses. Blackwall stoked himself rapidly at the sight, finding his release only a few moments later.

Blackwall spoke first. “Fuck, that was…”

“Stimulating?” Rose interrupted, letting out a small laugh.

“The sexiest damn thing I’ve ever experienced. Well, that is until I have the chance to make those fantasies of yours a reality.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short addition. More to come soon!


End file.
